What the future holds...

Write more!! I hope the ending doesn't have sydney slamming his face into a wall because he left her....It's sounding, or looking, great! Keep going, keep going!
 
~Chapter 4~

I turned the key and opened the front door. I looked inside my house before actually stepping into it. Nothing moved. I walked into my empty kitchen and for a second, I thought that what had happened that morning had been a dream or better yet, a spark of my own imagination.
“Hi Syd,” Michael said from behind me. I jumped. “Sorry. Did I scare you?” Michael said with a grin.
“Actually, you did,” I said coldly. My surprise from seeing him this morning had apparently turned into hate.
“Oh. Okay, then,” he said. He sat down at the dining table.
“What did you do in my house while I was gone?” I asked, taking a seat across from him.
“Nothing. I actually went out and visited the CIA headquarters. Just got back fifteen minutes ago. Picked up some Italian on the way,” Michael explained. He pointed to the bag of to-go boxes on my kitchen counter.
“I don’t like Italian,” I lied.
“Really? I always thought you did?” Michael asked suspiciously.
“Recent development,” I lied again.
“Right,” Michael said. Once again, there was silence.
“So, what brings you back here?” I asked.
“I missed you,” he said.
Tears started to form in my eyes. “Michael. No. Don’t say that,” I said.
“But I did Sydney. And I still do miss you. I had it easy in New York. Lived in the penthouse of a nice apartment building. Had an office with an actual view. But I had left something behind that I could never find in New York,” he said. He looked at me and put his hand on my hand.
My hand instinctively pulled away. “You left me, Michael. It’s your fault,” I said icily.
Michael frowned. “I know,” was all he said. I got up from the table and walked into my bedroom. I slammed the door
I lay facedown on my bed. Why me? Out of all the people in the world why me? I heard the front door slam. Michael had left.
 
thanx...im so glad that all of you like it!!

~Chapter 5~

I stood at the front entrance of the Fairmont Hotel that morning. The icy wind bit at my face. I pulled the scarf I was wearing higher. I walked into the hotel confidently.
The man at the front desk smiled at me. “How may I help you today?” he asked politely.
“I’m looking for a Mr. Michael Vaughn,” I said.
“I’m sorry. We don’t give out room numbers,” he informed me.
“Oh,” I replied, “Thank you anyway.” I started to walk away defeated. I stopped. Defeated? Me? Not in a million years. A plan formed in my head. I walked back to the front desk.
“Yes ma’am?” the man asked.
“There is a lady in the front complaining about her luggage,” I lied slyly. The man looked at me suspiciously.
“Thank you,” he said and rushed out of the hotel.
I slipped behind the desk and started typing quickly on the computer. I looked up room numbers. “Triggs, Van,” I mumbled. “Aha! Vaughn, number 459.” I quickly slipped out of the desk and into an elevator just as the man came rushing into the building.
I stood at the front entrance of the Fairmont Hotel that morning. The icy wind bit at my face. I pulled the scarf I was wearing higher. I walked into the hotel confidently.
The man at the front desk smiled at me. “How may I help you today?” he asked politely.
“I’m looking for a Mr. Michael Vaughn,” I said.
“I’m sorry. We don’t give out room numbers,” he informed me.
“Oh,” I replied, “Thank you anyway.” I started to walk away defeated. I stopped. Defeated? Me? Not in a million years. A plan formed in my head. I walked back to the front desk.
“Yes ma’am?” the man asked.
“There is a lady in the front complaining about her luggage,” I lied slyly. The man looked at me suspiciously.
“Thank you,” he said and rushed out of the hotel.
I slipped behind the desk and started typing quickly on the computer. I looked up room numbers. “Triggs, Van,” I mumbled. “Vaughn, number 459.” I quickly slipped out of the desk and into an elevator just as the man came rushing back into the building.
 
okay..well...heres the next chap....

~Chapter 6~

I knocked on the door nervously. No one came.
I knocked again. This time the door opened. Michael Vaughn looked coldly at me.
“Yes?” he asked.
“I, I, um, wanted to talk,” I stuttered.
“About?” Michael said.
“Us,” I replied.
“There is no us, Sydney. I figured that out yesterday when you destroyed me with your words,” Michael said.
“Look, I’m sorry,” I said. I thought about what I just said. “You know what! I’m not sorry,” I shouted, “I’m not sorry that you were selfish enough to leave and cruel enough to come back!”
For a split second I saw a look of surprise on Michael’s face. It quickly turned to fury. “Me?” he shouted back, “Me! Selfish! You were the one who was too scared to come and explore a new place!”
“Scared! Scared of what?” I yelled.
“Scared of change! Scared of the future! Scared of everything!” Michael retorted.
“You’re right Michael. You’re right,” I muttered, “I was scared. I was scared that I would be in a new place and that you would leave me there.”
“Syd-” Michael started.
I didn’t hear the rest of what he was going to say. I ran out of the hotel in tears.
 
Sniffle..sniffle...awww...my gosh, that was like....wow. Another thing I didn't see coming. It's good though...I'm just stunned.


I wanna see where this goes now. Wow....
 
OMG!!!! u have to write more! i'm sooooo hooked. there has to be a happy ending tho! plz let it work out!!!!! anyway, POST MORE SOON!!!!!!!!

ems
 
hehe...okay..heres some more....its a very depressing chap tho.... -_-

~Chapter 7~

I ran, blinded by tears. I didn’t know where I was running. I only knew what I was running from.
I tripped on a crack in the sidewalk. I braced myself, ready to fall face forward into cement. The pain of my head hitting the sidewalk never came. I looked up.
A man, probably my age, smiled down on me. He helped me up. I wiped my tears.
“I’m so sorry,” I said between tears.
“No, it’s okay. Never be sorry. Just right what has been wronged and that’s sorry enough for anybody,” he said. He grinned. I noticed he had really straight, white teeth.
“You should have told me that earlier,” I said with a smile.
“Something my 10th grade English teacher would say all the time. I guess it was the only thing that made sense to me in that class,” the stranger explained.
“Sydney Bristow,” I introduced.
“Christopher Johnson. Just Chris, though,” he said with a smile. I looked up at his eyes. They were bright blue. His hair was a sandy-brown.
“Nice to meet you,” I said with a grin.
“Same to you,” Chris said to me.
“I have to go,” I said.
“Sure,” he said. He handed me my purse.
“Thanks,” I said. I started to walk away. I saw Michael running towards me. I turned around quickly.
“Hey Chris!” I shouted. Chris turned around and walked towards me. “Would you like to go out with me tonight?” I asked. I raised my voice a little, just hoping that Michael would hear.
“Um, sure,” Chris said, flashing his pearly white smile, “Where do you live?”
“1285 Aster Road,” I said simply.
“I’ll pick you up at seven,” Chris said.
“Sounds great,” I replied.
“How’s Italian?” Chris asked.
“Even better,” I replied, “I love Italian.”
“See you then,” Chris said, walking off.
“Yeah.” I turned around. Michael wasn’t there anymore.
 
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